Winning Appeal
Page 7

“Yeah, I remember. He said, ‘just do it right.’ But what does that mean?”
“It means date her rather than just fucking her. Women have rules, but they’re subject to interpretation, and half of them don’t even follow them.”
“What if I forgot myself and accidentally put my hand on her ass at some public event? It’s like you said, it would probably wind up on Twitter and Braden would just love that.”
“So, don’t forget to only put your hand on her ass when you’re alone. What, were you raised by wolves? Just make sure you do everything by the code, man. Treat her like you plan to see her in the morning, that’s all. For example, do say something like, ‘I would love to spend the night with you.’ Do not say something like, ‘that was great, baby. Do you need cab fare?”
“Since you brought it up, how do you handle the afterwards? How long do you have to, you know, hold them?” God, it was freaking uncomfortable discussing this. It felt just like when my dad handed me a copy of What a Boy Needs to Know and asked me if I masturbated.
“You’ll figure it out. You’ll be surprised how naturally it comes when you’re motivated. And the rest is the standard stuff. Just stick to the code. If she’s on the pill by the way, you’ll finally know what you’ve been missing.”
“Stick to the code. I can do that.” I chewed thoughtfully.
“Good. Now, let’s talk about something else before I grow a vagina.”
Chapter Five
Beth
Saturday 6:45 PM
I checked myself out in the mirror one last time. My blonde hair was tied back in a chignon and my diamond earrings matched my necklace. I had on evening make-up and five-inch heels. I was five foot eight barefoot, so in these shoes, I would be almost as tall as Mark was.
I turned around, admiring my white Elie Saab chiffon gown that tied at one shoulder. It had a gathered waist, and a light, flowing floor-length skirt, slit up one thigh. It showed off my long legs, which I thought were my best asset.
“Not too shabby, Beth,” I said with a smile. Great, now I was talking to myself. At least the Chihuahua was a separate living being. Maybe I should get a cat. Oh God, that was the first step toward being a crazy cat lady.
My buzzer rang and my confidence waivered even more, but I took a deep breath and reminded myself that he wanted me too. I crossed the room to the call box.
“Hello,” I said, pressing the intercom button.
“Hey, will you buzz me up?” Mark’s deep, rich voice made my tummy flutter even filtered through the speaker.
“Sure. I’ll see you in a minute.” I pushed the door lock button and waited nervously. I caught myself twisting my fingers together and I fisted them at my sides, which only served to make my palms sweaty. “What is wrong with you, Beth? You know how to keep your composure.” I paused. “And stop talking to yourself or people are going to wonder about you.”
My doorbell rang and I jumped. Rolling my eyes, and forcing myself to calm down, I went over to answer it. When I swung it open, my mouth went dry. Mark stood there in a tuxedo, looking positively wonderful.
His attention snapped to me when he heard the door open. I saw his eyes quickly travel up and down my body. Then a sexy smile slowly formed on his lips, and it felt like my heart was trying to beat its way out of my chest. All I could think was, “Please don’t let me break out in hives.” And then, “You suck at romance, Beth.”
“Were you always this tall?” he asked, looking into my eyes, which were almost level with his. I got lost in the gray smoke for a moment.
“I’m wearing higher heels,” I mumbled. “Because there will be dancing. And I wanted our parts to line up well.” Then what I had just said sunk in, and I closed my eyes and felt my face get hot. I wanted our parts to line up well?
“Uh, well, that’s always good I guess,” he said with a laugh. I opened my eyes again and forced a bright smile to cover up my humiliation.
“The car isn’t here yet,” I spit out quickly. “Come in, though, and make yourself comfortable.” I stepped to the side to give him room to pass, and then turned to close the door. I wanted to ask him what he thought of the place, and so I spun around quickly, sweeping my arm out, in a warm and expansive gesture of welcome.
Unfortunately, he had paused right behind me, which meant that I essentially punched him in the gut. His eyes watered a bit, but the smile never left his face.
“Oh my God! I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” Personally, I myself, wanted to crawl into a hole and die at that moment.
“I’m fine. No worries,” he replied sounding a little hoarse, as he backed away from me slowly. Again. I sighed, and resolved to do my best not to cause him any further injury. “This place is nice. I like bold color,” he said, looking around.
“Me too. Bold color is… good,” said the woman with a Masters degree in Art History from Vassar. “And bright color too… is good.” Have I mentioned my semester at the Sorbonne? He gave me a funny look. I can’t imagine why.
“Are you okay?” He sounded a little concerned, like he was wondering if I had sustained yet another head injury. I wanted to slit my wrists.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t get a lot of sleep.” I walked over to the sofa and sat down. “I shared my bed last night.” I leapt back up to my feet. “With a Chihuahua!”
He gave me a surprised look, and suddenly, I was overcome with amusement at how ridiculous I sounded. I stopped talking and bit my lip, trying not to laugh. It didn’t work. I cracked up.
“What?” he asked. He was smiling, but now he was looking really confused and maybe a little afraid.
“I’m sorry… it’s just that… I’m usually so much cooler than this.” I choked out, holding my stomach. “I’ve never been so fucking awkward in my life.” I was laughing so hard I could barely breathe, but his reply was what actually took my breath away.
“First of all, never apologize for laughing. You’re even more beautiful when you laugh. Secondly, I’m kind of nervous myself.”
I stopped laughing and dry swallowed. Then, it was like there was something pulling us together, like we were magnetic. We began to move toward each other in a barely perceptible way, until the buzzer rang. The car had arrived. Damn.
When we got to the parking garage, Louis, the guy who usually drove me to these events was waiting. He worked for my father and he was trained in security. He held the door for us and Mark helped me into the back seat.